The Night of Agony
by Guardian.of.Lothlorien
Summary: In Anne's Book of Revelations, she faces her fear that night alone. But what if she went to Gilbert? How would she feel and how would she face him that night? Would a waking Gilbert scare her as much as a dying one? Read and see how I imagine the conclusion of Anne of the Island if she ran to Gilbert the night she heard that he was dying.


Dear readers,

This story takes place during the chapter Book of Revelations in Anne of the Island. I am sure that similar remakes have been done, but this is one of my own takes on it. For those of you who do not remember chapter titles, this is when Anne learns that Gilbert is dying and realizes her love for him. I do not include any of the original text (partially because it has been years since I last read it), so I am not precise about exactly where in the chapter this breaks from the novel. I am planning on continuing this story further.

I hope you enjoy. I welcome any comments, especially those with constructive criticism, as this is the first piece that I am uploading here. I personally have trouble writing dialogue, so any comments on how to improve the dialogue would be especially appreciated!

~ .Lothlorien

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the situation or anything. That all goes to a much more talented and courageous author L M Montgomery whose work inspired me to write this adaption of her great novel.

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"Please excuse me," Anne said calmly, though she felt as though she was broken inside. How could Gilbert, so full of life be dying? And how had she never realized how much she needed him in her life? As the image of her empty future – years stretching on without him by her side – came unbidden to her head, she felt her chest clench. "I, I need some fresh air."

"But Anne, it's pouring outside! You'll catch your death if you go out in this rain and goodness knows there is enough of that right now." Mrs. Lynde's reprimand was lost on Anne whose ability to comprehend anything other than Gilbert's failing health was gone.

Anne stood up, still pale as a ghost, and without responding went over to grab a shawl. Dying, dying, dying. The word still echoed in her head. Images of Gilbert full of life throughout the many years since she had arrived in Avonlea seemed to contradict the possibility of Gilbert dying. Memories of him calling her carrots, rescuing her after the Lily Maid incident, asking to be her friend, their academic competitions, their evenings spent at Patty's Place bounced around her brain. Other memories, memories that she had pushed aside for many years, also resurfaced. The day on the bridge when, looking back on it, she had first felt that they could be something more than friends. The look in his eyes when she wore his flowers to convocation. And worst, the day when he proposed and she, too foolish then to know her own heart, had broken his. Gilbert, dying. The words sounded foreign next to each other.

All of it became too much. She had to leave the feeling of her family's eyes on her and the oppressive indoor air behind her. Suddenly staying still seemed unbearable. "Excuse me," she choked out, grabbing her shawl and running outside.

She vaguely heard Marilla half-heartedly calling her back inside, as though Marilla knew that Anne would not, could not listen to reason at this time. She ran through the rain for a second, a minute, she did not know how long before collapsing under a tree. She could barely feel the pouring rain through her despair, but what she could feel of it she welcomed. It offered the tears that could not come to her eyes. Somehow her fear put her beyond tears.

Suddenly, she realized what she needed to do. She knew that she would not be welcomed, but she had to go to the Blythe's and to at least be near him one more, for she dared not even think last, time. Anne knew that she would not be welcomed – Mrs Blythe had made it very clear that she held Anne in disdain for her refusal of Gilbert.

Anne was not one to give up before trying, though. So, she picked herself up, lightly brushing off the dirt on her skirt, not comprehending in her misery that looking respectable while soaked through was a lost cause. Subconsciously, she had already run in the direction of Gilbert's house. In a few minutes, she found herself at their gate. Most of the lights in their house were still on and she could see his parents through the window, their stress and worry evident. It almost seemed to be too private of a moment to intrude upon, but her desperation and fear propelled her forward anyway.

Mechanically, she moved towards their door and knocked. Luckily, Mr. Blythe answered. "Anne? Anne Shirley? What are you doing here?" queried Gilbert's father. At that moment Anne realized how she must look, soaked in rain, with dirt on her dress, and the desperation obvious on her face.

"John, who is at the door? We really cannot have anyone in right now you know." Mrs. Blythe's voice travelled to Anne from the other room.

Before they could send her away, Anne burst out "Please, please, just let me come in. They just, just told me when I got back a bit ago. I, I have to see him, please. Please."

Mrs. Blythe came around the corner. "What, so you can remind him of how he was not good enough for you and how you needed a fancy beaux from the mainland? I don't think we need any of that right now."

"It isn't like that. Please, I can't… he can't… I need to see him, talk to him. I know I have behaved poorly in the past, but please, I just need to set things right and make sure he knows…" She met Mrs. Blythe's eyes and could see them softening in response to her earnest emotion.

"All right then, not that it matters at this point." Mrs. Blythe's voice cracked at the end. Mr. Blythe stepped aside to let her in. "Up the stairs and to the left. Just tell the nurse to let you in. And for goodness sakes, have her get you something to dry off first. Last thing we need is any more reason for illness in this house.

Anne let go a breath that she had not realized she was holding and stepped in. "Thank you so much! And I apologize for everything, I know you do not have much cause to like me right now."

"Go on now, girl, there isn't much point in wasting time now is there?" came Mr. Blythe's voice from behind her, rough with emotion.

Anne made her way up the stairs and towards Gilbert's room. Suddenly she felt nervous and uncertain. She had been so focused on getting to Gilbert that she had not considered what she would be facing. The nurse let her in.

Seeing Gilbert lying there made it all seem more real. The fire was burning hotly, in an attempt to heat out the fever. But Gilbert lay there pale as death, sweating and shivering at the same time. At times mumbled words would come out. Though Anne could not make out what he was saying, it was clear that he was suffering from hallucinations. She blindly went to the chair next to his bed. With one hand she clasped his hand and with the other picked up the damp towel that the nurse had been wiping his forehead with. "Gilbert, oh Gilbert." She sighed. "There is so much I wish I could tell you. I'm so sorry. I was so blind. I never loved Roy. The biggest mistake of my life was when I refused you. You once told me that it would have been more romantic if Mr. Irving and Miss Lavender had never been separated and I heard but did not listen. I don't know what I would do without you in my life. I am so sorry that I never realized before tonight. More than anything, I wish you would just wake up now and be alright." Anne choked back sobs. She heard Mrs. Blythe in the doorway and turned to her, still clutching Gilbert's hand as though her touch could anchor him to life. "I, I suppose you want me to go. Thank you for letting me come in. I know it must pain you to give up some of your moments with him to me. She hesitantly reached forward as if to stroke Gilbert's face before jerking back with the realization that she had no right to do so. Anne began to stand up.

"No, stay." The unexpected words from Mrs. Gilbert's lips made Anne pause. "I know he would want you here. Besides, it is not as though we could let you run home in all this rain," Mrs. Blythe said wryly and proceeded to surprise Anne by bringing in another chair and placing it on the other side of Gilbert's bed. "And we could use another person fighting for him to live tonight."

Anne wanted to ask how bad the illness was, but knew that the answer could not be anything good. Gilbert's appearance spoke to the likelihood that for once Rachel Lynde's information held no exaggerations. She also wanted to ask where Christine Young was, but did not want to deal with the discussion that would arise. Though, now that she remembered, it seemed odd that she was here, professing her love for him while his fiancé was absent. It was not as though it was a sudden illness and if she were his fiancé, she knew she would not be able to bear losing a single moment with Gilbert.

Instead she replied more appropriately to Mrs. Blythe's kind allowance. "Thank you. I do not know what I would do if I could not be here. I know I have wronged him before, but you must know that I would do anything, give anything to right those actions."

Mrs. Blythe replied with a piercing look and considered her words before replying. "Yes, yes I can tell. And that is the only reason why I let you in here tonight. I just wish it hadn't taken you breaking his heart and him almost dy… being in this condition for you to realize it as well." She said gruffly, "The nurse has laid out some of her extra clothes for you to change into. The last thing we need is you lying on your own deathbed from a chill." And with that she turned from Anne to focus on her son.

A bit later Anne returned to find Mrs. Blythe clutching her son's hand leaning her head on his bed, softly weeping. She went over there quietly and began to sooth Mrs. Blythe much as one would sooth a small child. Though she knew there was nothing substantial she could do, she felt she had to be there for this woman whose heart was breaking. Gradually Mrs. Blythe pulled herself together. "Excuse me, I have to go, I have to…" Mrs. Blythe mumbled and stumbled out the room to find the comfort of her husband.

Anne sat down in previous seat and continued to try to help Gilbert, once more using the wet cloth to attempt to lower the fever. Rather than indulge her own selfish feelings of guilt and talk about her fears, she started to talk about her best memories of their friendship. She hoped that he could hear her and remember that life was waiting for him to wake up and take it back by storm. Several times she thought she heard him stir and mumble her name softly in response to her stories, but she dared not hope. Besides, his fever was unabated and he was still tossing and turning.

Mrs. Blythe did not return again, though Anne could hear her sobbing to Mr. Blythe intermittently through the night. The nurse did come in several times to take over her duties, but Anne continued to watch over Gilbert, hoping that a loving touch could help to accomplish what clinical competence could not.

In spite of her best efforts and fear of missing a moment, Anne dozed off briefly several times. Half asleep, she felt his hand, which she had been holding all night, clench around hers. She immediate woke up, to see him shifting. He murmured her name in a curious way, as someone half asleep who could not fully comprehend what was around him. He turned and fell quiet. Her heart paused, half hope, half fear. Petrified that she had seen his last, but hopeful that this was the turning point. Though the rain was still falling, she felt as though everything around her had faded away and could hear nothing and see nothing but Gilbert. Quickly, she reached over to check his forehead and his breath.

She let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. He was all right. Thanks be to God, his fever had broken. The quietness she had feared meant the worst simply meant that he had fallen into a restful sleep. And with that realization, she burst into relieved sobs.

Her sobs must have been louder than she realized, for Mrs. Blythe immediately ran into the room and turned deathly pale, seeing only her son lying unmoving. Mrs. Blythe screamed, bringing in her husband who looked as though all the tragedies of the world were being laid upon his shoulders. As soon as Anne realized what they thought, she quickly pulled herself together.

The same sentence that was the only thought she comprehended burst out. "No! No, it isn't that. He's alright. He is going to be alright. He's alright." She paused before continuing, "I dozed off, and when I woke up his fever broke. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just, am just so relieved. I, I couldn't hold it in. He's alright."

Mrs. Blythe ran over to the bedside to check for herself. "Thank God!" She collapsed holding her son's hand and kissing his face. In the doorway, Mr. Blythe let out a deep breath and echoed his wife's sentiment. Anne could see the tension leave him as he leaned against the doorframe.

Suddenly realizing how private of a moment this should be, Anne excused herself. "I must be getting back to Green Gables, Marilla will be worried when I did not show up again last night." If only she had the right to be the one sitting beside him! Now that the crisis was over, she was once again struck by the impropriety of her actions that night and feared that Gilbert and Christine would not look happily on her.

The Blythe's looked as though they both wanted her gone and wanted to protest against her leaving. Mrs. Blythe settled upon a more established sentiment. "Anne, before you leave, just know that you are welcome to come back. I think that Gilbert would appreciate it. And thank you for watching over him tonight."

"Of course. Thank you for… well, just thank you." And Anne ran out, as scared to face Gilbert now as she had been scared to not see him the night before.


End file.
